Us Fortunate Ones
by BrightlyShining
Summary: 1935. Haley Hotchner is murdered and Jack is on the run. While the police fails to investigate, a group of rather worn out people uncovers the deeds of a serial killer who disguises his crimes as suicides. Their own investigation brings them closer to the unsub as well as to each other... AU; T for language and -altough minor- 'bloody' content; not major Emily/Rossi pairing
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I don't have profound knowledge of how life in Washington DC was in 1935 but only the very basic historical informations. Nonetheless I decided to write this story and since nobody ever write fanfiction for any other purpose that having fun doing it I hope you can bear with the inaccuracies that might emerge every now and then. In this chapter, as well as in the following ones (which I already began) I am mainly going to outline where the characters stand in this time to get the plot started.

I'm not sure how frequent the updates on this story are going to be but they a_re_ going to come... sometime... someday.

I hope you like it and would appreciate any kinds of comments or criticism.

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_Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come._

- writer Anne Lamott

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"Aaron", the dark-haired waitress greated him with a cheerful but, after her eight hour long -with no end in sight- shift, tired smile, "you're late, I didn't think I'd see you today."

After a salutatory nod he took a seat at the counter. "Busy days."

"Days?", she answered, giving him a questioning look, "weeks, if not months. You used to show up here around six."

"And you used to leave around six thirty, Emily. Seems I'm not the only one doing extra hours."

"Well, what shall I say? We're badly off ever since David lost his job so I need to make up for it as good as I can. I don't have a choice."

"Neither have I."

"Maybe - who would I be to judge _your_ ethics without knowing much about your business?"

Emily knew Hotch was a broker but that was already all there was. They didn't ever talk about his or her work in detail but she gave a crap whether he was corrupt or honest, utilizing or upright anyways - it was nice talking to the serious, somewhat grave man and exchanging personal matters with someone who was too close to not care at all and yet sufficiently distanced to give helpful advice, despite knowing it wasn't necessarily what the collocutor wanted to hear; and ever and anon the zenith of her day.

"All I know for sure is that you are here, even though you have a family with whom you should spend the little free time you've got rather than with me."

"It's past Jack's bedtime anyways. I suppose he's already sound asleep."

"Haley won't go to bed just yet though." She sighted, giving him time to answer even though she knew he wouldn't use it. Maybe it was a sign of slowly evolving closeness that his problems had begun to bother her too already a while ago but she wouldn't push anything. "Now... as usual?"

"Yes, please."

She began to pile toast, fried eggs and bacon onto a plate and filled a large mug with freshly brewed, steaming coffee and a splash of evaporated milk before she slid them both over. "Other men have this for breakfast."

"What _should_ I be taking?"

"Club Soda, Scotch, Bourbon... everything that helps people forget their worries and fall asleep a little faster." She smiled and fixed herself a coffee as well.

"No way I'm getting started on this again." The niggling voice in the back of his head said otherwise though.

"No way I'll ever let you _touch_ anything like that. A glass of hot milk would probably do the trick just as well", Emily scoffed while Hotch stopped the topic with a wave of his hand. Never had she hesitated to quip about serious issues, keeping it respectful though, and it was the first thing he had liked about her. "So why are you not home?"

"Haley and I have been having... problems lately. Remember how I told you about the business lunch we attended last Sunday?"

Emily furrowed her brows. "Yeah... you said the both of you were looking forward to meet that supremo of yours. What about it?"

"We _kissed_ each other, accordingly unobnoxious of course and we were smiling, talking, even joking and... in love."

"If you're talking about you and Haley here... good for you."

"No. I mean - yes, sorta. For one day we were a happy couple with the paradigm of a son but it was pure _business_. If I continue to climb up the greasy pole like I do right now I'll spend even less time with Haley but I'll smooth her way through life big time. She'll be nice, I'll get what I've been dreaming of for years and she'll get a _lot_ in return."

"So what you're having is a partnership of convenience."

The problem Emily didn't know how to deal with was that while Hotch and Dave knew each other and were brief friends she hadn't met Haley before. All she knew about the omnicious woman was what Hotch had told her about her and Emily refused to judge a person she hadn't even seen ever in her life. And while it was obvious that the unfortunate development of their relationship bothered Hotch, Emily had noticed that his attitude towards his marriage seemed to change ever and were the times when he was just bitter, blaming Haley, then himself, then the entire society. Sometimes his words spoke of the love he still felt for this woman and the desperation as he had to face that _loving someone_ wasn't enough to successfully spend a lifetime with each other. And then again he just sat there and missed his wife and didn't go home to her though...

"And whenever we're not in public it's quiete a disputing one." He shook his head, desperately wanting a Scotch. Emily served him another Coffee instead, sesning his weakness like she had many previous times. "When it began it was _love_. And what have we become today? We're taking advantage of each other and are both too enduring to end it. Dammit, we didn't only lose our love, our _respect_ for each other went missing about the same day... I just don't feel like coming home to our hushed fights just yet and Haley wouldn't be pleased to see me either."

"Have you considered to separate?"

Hotch let out a short laughter, devoid of amusement and delight. These hadn't been part of his daily routine since quiete some time. "You make it sound as if we had a choice."

"I don't see how you wouldn't have one."

"What about my career? Our condo?" He sighted and took a mouthful of eggs. "She would probably take it all and people don't particularily _like_ men who failed their personal life; not to mention the trouble my family would be making... And Haley is cathoilic, she wouldn't let it happen and I cannot afford it either."

"Then even at the risk of sounding like a broken record - you have a son and, as long as he's livivng at the same place you do, no good excuse to not be with him. I bet he _needs_ his father. Badly."

"Doubt it."

"Why would you?"

"I don't think Haley talks much about me and the few times we actually get to talk I see I'm losing him."

"You know it's not her responsibility to make him love you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know, you are your own master and I can't imagine Haley to be a bad mother. But mothers seldomly make good fathers, too. She needs to be there for Jack, yes, but she doesn't need to _replace_ _you_ at the same time. She won't be able to do that and all Jack will know is that his father provided for the family, sure, but that he wasn't ever there though."

"But I _want_ to be there for him, I-"

"That's not enough. _My_ father spent my childhood working his ass of to get a position in the White House and avoiding his family." She smiled at the memory and her smile too was showing the bitterness she felt more than any other expression. "He left a note saying _I love you_ every once in a while but I knew I wouldn't ever meet his expectations and I stopped caring about his love as I grew old enough to realize it was his job to have a happy family. And look at what good it did me. I'm pretty messed up and the only thing I ever did well in was to disappoint him in every way there is."

"Your father was a fool be disappointed." The firmness of his tone flattered her. "And you are not messed up."

"Why, thank you. But I went to an elite school and graduated not only as the only female student but also as the grades validictorian. And yet here I am, doing double shifts in a diner where I serve people stale coffee and subprime toast while I still don't earn enough money to have as much as a secure existence."

Hotch raised his eyebrows in surprise and, as he had to admit to himself, admiration. He had known that she came from a rich family and that the relationship with them, especially her parents, was rather complicated, but her early academic career was news to him. Sure it had always been clear that the woman he used to talk to almost every night was helpful, understanding, funny, smart... above average for sure - but _that_ clever, maybe even more intelligent than him? How many more people were underestimating her every day, maybe looking down at her while they should be looking up... Hotch felt how he blushed slightly as he realized how he had done so, too.

"I'm glad you work here."

"It's... well, it's what I chose a long time ago and I have to live with it."

"May I ask why you didn't do anything else? Something... you know, just-" He began to stammer but Emily only smiled. Seldomly did anyone act as awkward around her, mainly for they couldn't know what she was capable of and the only thing hurting her was that she couldn't blame these people. After all what had brought her here had been her own stupid, precipitant decision and what kind of promising daughter ruined her own future on purpose?

"You want to know why I'm performing a job every idiot can do okay in?"

"That's... that's not what I meant it to sound like."

"Never mind, it's what I_ want_ it to sound like - and it's the truth, by the way."

"So why did I meet you only 'cause I was told they serve good coffee here instead of... I don't know, reading about you winning the Noble price?"

Emily let out a short giggle but his question hadn't been a complete joke. Her face turned serious again and she failed to ban the bitterness fully from her voice.

"Frankly, I did it to piss off my parents. The one dream I and them had in common was that I would become a doctor and with my father's connections it could even have happened. If there is one thing that hasn't ever been a problem in my family it's sexism but it doesn't really make up for... hm, lemme think - the obsession with carreer, discipline, doing as you're told and ignoring everybody else's dreams, hopes and need for affection. And the willingness to sell your own grandmother to get what you want, of course." Her voice was dripping with both sarcasm and deep disappointment. "And before you say anything else - I am being serious. I threw my life away to not give them the satisfacation watching me being successful and thinking how my achievements were theirs too, would have meant. What a talent, right?"

"I'm sorry you lost such a chance."

Emily only shurgged and smiled again, honestly this time. "I can't waste time being sorry for myself and you shouldn't be either. For one thing I don't think you have it any easier and anyways, it was the dumbest decision I have made in my entire life and I don't expect to do anythng dumber -ever- but things could have turned out worse - so who am I to complain about stuff that other people dream of? I found the love of my life and meet good people every day. Just don't let it come that far with Jack. Love him before your love becomes nothing but a charade. You can't spend minimum time with him just because you don't wanna spend time with Haley. It would be the biggest possible mistake to make... you'd even top my own ones. Another coffee?"

He shook his head and searched his pockets for a few coins to pay the bill and leave her a tip. There still were eggs and some toast left on his plate but he wasn't hungry anymore. "No thanks, I won't sleep if I have another mug tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then. Have a good night, Emily."

She nodded goodbye but didn't bother to hide that she was worried. "You too... just make sure it really is your home you're going to."

"I didn't take as much as a step into a bar for over six months-"

"-and I remember this last time better than I'd like to, even though you probably don't. You were upset back then and I haven't seen you haven't been as upset again, until tonight."

Hotch frowned; it was true. That Emily seemed to be able to look right through people was a rather spooky ability of hers and she was about just as good at hiding the very same thing. He, on the other hand, had thought hiding was the one art he had brought to perfection... until he had met her and learned what _hiding_ really meant. It meant that you can unburden your heart to somebody and learn more about the listener than vice versa. It meant that you can work in a diner and secretly be a prep school's female valedictorian.

"Nothing is going to happen."

"I believe you."

"Give my compliments to Dave."

"Sure. I don't think you'll give mine to Haley?"

"Maybe I'll take Jack here for breakfast some time, he might like a place like that. You're here Saturday morning?"

"I'm here every day at pretty much every time. But I'd like that."

"Okay, we'll be there."

As Emily put Hotch's mug and plate in the nearby sink and tried to imagine what Haley would feel like if he invited Jack but not her to breakfast, the broker stood up to leave the diner. He wasn't quiete looking forward to come home.

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**A/N:** So far, we know Emily speaks english (obviously), italian, french, spanish -all four of which are using the latin alphabet-, russian -using cyrillic script- and arabic, using Anjad numerals. This equals six languages in three alphabets - this just got to be somewhat above average!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Basically this is where the plot sets off. Well, kind of. It's a bit odd though especially since I'm not quiete sure about what the status of women and african americans was like bacl then... well, especially the women's status is what gave me troubel. there's gonna be Reid in the next chapter! Just saying... :D_  
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Thanks to everyone who has read this so far!

I noticed that I forgot to mention that I don't own Criminal Mind and the main characters featured in this story. So... if you went of _fanfiction_ and thought something like "no disclaimer... she owns Criminal Minds, how cool is that?!" I'm sorry to disappoint you.

So - I hope you enjoy this chapter and leave a review, maybe?

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_If I'm gonna go down I'm gonna do it with style._

_You won't hear me surrender, you won't hear me confess_

_cause you've left me with nothing but I have worked with less._

- Ani Di Franco

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"Hey sweeter, up for some fun?" Derek Morgan didn't respond to the blonde woman but gave her a tired look. Every muscle in his body was aching and he had taken the opportunity to put in some paid overtime, which was good since his room's rent had been due yesterday, but the soup kitched had already been closed. Spending some of the freshly earned money on food wasn't an option he had though, so it would be whatever old, forgotten leftover victual he would hopefully find and the rememberance of the taste of his mother's Gumbo.

Maybe she would just back off and leave him alone - the only thing he wanted was his bed and by that he really only meant _just_ his bed without anybody else in it waiting for him. And something to eat. Why did she went hooking in this part of DC anyways? She couldn't realistically expect to find any well-heeled customers anywhere around. These were smart to stay as far away as they could.

But she didn't let him alone; it was the only way to get what she wanted, too. He almost understood it well enough to feel pity for her. "Hey you, I don't take much-"

"I don't want your, ehm... services."

"So you're married?" As Morgan began to walk faster she kept up with his pace. The night was still young and she needed to earn as much as possible. Not that it was her fate which she was worried about. Lord, she wouldn't be willing to do this job night for night if she still cared about _herself_. But she didn't and so this night was worth a try. "Doesn't matter, I'm married too but my husband doesn't care much... well, I don't think he does, wherever he is."

"Look, I'm sorry if he left you and you're needing money but I'm really not in the mood for this."

"Oh come _on_, you look like you had a rough day and-"

"Do I look like I had enough _money_ to pay you?", he hissed and she ducked slightly, causing him to feel guilty right away. He didn't mean to scare her, no matter how annoying she was. The decent, tempting smile returned to her face only seconds later. The corners of her mouth were slightly shaking though; with inexperience, probably, or maybe just fear, danger, shame, the loss of an old life... whatever. Morgan sighted and turned around to look at her. "I honestly don't have any money to give you, as much as I'd like to help."

"Please, I don't need money!"

"You don't?" He laughed. "Now what's next? You'll tell me you're offering yourself to strangers for free and call it welfare?"

"I have a son. He's only five."

"Just stay the fuck away from me!" This time Morgan was yelling at the top of his lungs on purpose but she didn't react as she had done earlier.

"What? No! If anybody ever touched my son he'll pay for it with nothing less than his worthless, dirty life!" The anger is her eyes was honest and Morgan let out a relieved sight. This whole conversation had just become a whole size too creepy for his liking. But he knew it had happened before. They had found a dead kid around the area only a week ago and even though nobody seemed to know anything exact... it happened. This wasn't a safe place for good people wich made it all the saver for criminals, perverts and the human scum that found no other place. And people like him, who couldn't find a better place to stay either.

"Then _what_ do you want?" The moment he said it he cursed himself for asking. She had problems, that was obvious for he highly doubted a young mother went out to have payed intercourse just for fun; but he had enough trouble dealing with his own fair share of life. Dang it, he wouldn't make her problems some of his, too. His life, her life... _her son's life_... He sighted inwardly. There it was. Compassion, worry, protective instincts... Fuck.

"We don't have a home since yesterday and he can't spend another night out on the streets. I'll do _everything_ you want if we can spend the rest of the night at your place. We won't need anything, we'll just sleep somewhere on the floor." She pulled a light blonde strand of hair behind her ear and quickly blinked away a couple of tears. "I just... he's too little for these problems and I... we have no place to go... and I have no idea how to do _any_ of this..."

"Where is your son now?"

Her voice wasn't more than a whisper. "I have a friend at a homeless shelter."

"Can't the two of you spend the night there?"

"No, it's... we've been staying there yesterday and now she's watching him but that place if aweful. He's too scared to sleep and so am I. There aren't only people like us there."

She choked off and Morgan wondered what kind of shelter the woman's friend was working at if staying on the floor of a complete stranger's place whom she intended to pay with sex was a less concerning thought. He abandoned the thought quickly and resolutely shook his head. He couldn't invite strangers to his place just like that... heck, she was a _prostitute_ and he couldn't afford to wake up robbed and alone in the morning.

"How do you wanna know my place is any better than that shelter?"

"Must be."

"I could be sleeping underneath a bridge."

He was surprized to hear her laugh. "You? No way. First of all you're not clean but you're not _really_ dirty either. I mean... you're kinda sweaty but at the same time you're obviously coming home from work. Also, you have no stuff with you which would indicate you're _not_ having a real place to stay at and sure, you're african american, but while you're obviously badly off I've seen people around who have it worse so you're probably working in assembly line. You're not pofiting of the emplyoment-creation measures so... well...", she shrugged and slightly scrunched up her nose, "I can't really tell... you're just not looking like you have no home."

"You're smart." What sounded like a statement, not even suggesting any further interest, really implied the question behind it. _You could be elsewhere, why are you not?_

"I am." Her voice seemed to become colder, even though the _warm_ kind of undertone stayed. He was disgusted by it and could tell that so was she. "But... I can be more."

"Yes, I bet you could do pretty well in most, ehm... _real_ jobs."

"Sure, if you tell me where I could possibly get employed I'd be glad to work there."

"You learned anything?"

"I've been a farmwoman; but a nurse before." She scrunched up her nose and smiled at the same time. "It's interesting and I'm good with people."

"So what ha-" He quickly shook his head and turned away from her, reminding himself of how she was none of his business. "Look, I've had worse conversations today that is for sure... but we should each go our own way now."

He actually meant it. This whole situation was damn awkward, especially for he couldn't fully convince himself that she and her kid were nothing but the stranded, criminal remnant of a broken family. Yes, she seemed to be smart... but more than that he found her to be fascinating, interesting -_intriguing_- only after a couple of minutes of superficial talking.

And exactly this wasn't going to happen. Not the night for social bondings.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to answer, something bumped right into him, let out a short yelp and spun around, just to run against the woman about a second later. Only at a second glance did Morgan realize that it was a child. As if tonight hadn't been hard enough already. He instinctively stretched out a hand to grab the child; he was _so not_ in the mood for this... His finger collided with ice-cold, female skin instad.

He tried to get between her and the kid in an instant. A _farmwoman _was appearently too naive to survive on these nightly streets. "No, _no_! Don't go anywhere near him, these kids are nothing but nasty little pickpoc-"

The blonde, however, had pulled the boy, not hesitating as long as a second, into a tight embrace, instinctively stepping between him and Morgan as she was ready to defend whoever this was against whatever there might be coming. Her natural courgage amazed him, that he had to admit. Yes, despite living quiete a poor life himself, he _was_ looking down at the woman who was selling her body... but she didn't mind taking a risk though. It still was a stupid, rash risk to be taken but he had always admired bravery and that she definitely had.

It wasn't until he took a second look that Morgan noticed the boy was wearing nothing but his pyjamas. These, in addition, appeared to be pricy and were made from a shiny, expensive looking fabric. This again was soaked with a remarkable amout of deep red blood which took his breath away for a second. This wasn't a kid that belonged in this neighborhood and for sure not a pickpocket... the tought that he should be angry at himself for jumping these kind of conclusions rather than for just being wrong occured to him, but he had learned to ignore the small voice of justice.

"What the h-"

"Hey!", she interrupted him before he could even finish the curse, "you can either be quiete or get lost _right now_!"

"Okay, sorry", he mumbled, "I was only thinking... the blood, he's full of blood..."

She didn't pay attention to the man. Possibly finding a place to stay at or caring for the rather disturbed child... it wasn't hard to decide where to set her priorities.

"Hey you, what are you doing here?"

The boy gave no answer but silenty burst out into tears before he slowly began to return the hug. The street lamps shed a dark kind of light in which his skin looked chalky white. She felt how he shivered and pulled him closer to herself, trying to protect him from both cold and fear. He was too young to walk these streets and feel the way she felt. He needed to be safe... and as long as this wasn't quite possible he needed to be with _her_.

"My name is Jennifer." Morgan felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he realized how _he_ hadn''t even bothered to ask for her name. She hunkered down next to the boy to encouragingly look him in the eyes. "But my friends call me JJ. Can you tell me who you are?"

"Jack." The boy's voice was incredibly shy and by now practically drowning with tears. JJ softly wiped them away with her thumb, this time only since it was a motion that had become one of her reflexes. He cried the way Henry sometimes did, she had sometimes done... "Jack H- H-... Jack."

"Jack? Why, that's a beautiful name. I have a son, Henry, who I think might be a little younger than you are. How old are you?"

"Seven."

She gave him another encouraging smile. "Wow, you're _old_. Big, huh?"

Jack gave no response.

"I guess you already know where you live, too?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Can you tell me where that is?"

This time he didn't hesitate to answer. His voice lost its shyness for a second, too and became firm and determined. "No."

"Look, Jack... I know you're probably not supposed to talk to strangers and especially not tell them where you live but I promise you that I'll just help you getting back home and everything's gonna be fine. Cross my heart, okay?"

He shook his head, shyly bititng his lower lip. "No."

JJ thought for a moment and decided to accept it. There wasn't much she could do about it anyways. After all, she wouldn't trust herself is she was him either. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Would it be alright if we found a nice police officer to carry you home instead?" There just had to be many of them around, JJ hoped. What really worried her was the fact that she didn't exactly looked like she came home from a hard working day and that while there was much crime everywhere around she seldomly saw anyone fighting it. Not that anybody exactly fought for them kind of people anyways... but she couldn't leave him alone even though she didn't know where to go in the first place. "You'll get to drive in a real cop car, I bet that'd be pretty cool."

Again, no more than a shaking of his head and a short mumble. "I can't ever go back."

"Jack... where did you run from?"

"Home."

Her eyes fell on the blood on his PJ's and she shivered. Sleepwear, blood... the pure fear and dragging pain in his eyes. She knew very well what this could mean but was hoping for it to be different though. Afraid to ask the probably essential question her voice was shaking slightly. "Did somebody at home hurt you?"

"No" His voice was weak, quiete, barely audible; and sounded overall more like a guess than a true statement.

"If somebody did it's okay to tell others because they'll help you. You know that, don't you?"

"No."

"But now you do and it's gonna be okay, yes? I'll help you with whatever there might-"

"He hurt my mom."

"Who did?" JJ literall felt how the, sadly, most natural following question _Your father?_ wanted to burst through her lips but she bravely chocked them back. It wasn't always the father; she couldn't ask this kind of question as it would almost _imply_ that he did something. Which could end badly and, still more, unjust, too. "No matter who did it - you can tell me. I'll do everything I can to help you."

"I... I don't know." All of the sudden he threw his arms around JJ's neck and, practically smashing into her, bursted out crying. She felt his shoulder blades and vertebras stand out under her hands as his tiny, somewhat fragile body was shaking in her arms. "I c-can't go back, mommy will be there and she's not waking up... I can't go back, I can't..."

"Hey, it's okay, you don't need to go back if you don't want to."

She looked at Morgan who was still standing next to them, as if paralized. He had no idea what to do but shivered at the thought of what could have happened to Jack. If it did... well, he had still not found out _what_ exactly one could do. Maybe Jack would find someone who cared, whom he could turn to... But not taking him home? _What the hell_ was she thinking? What did she think would _anyone_ who might happen to see them with a bloody, wealthy kid assume? That they were trying to care for him? As if. Crazy lady.

"This man here - he'll help you, too. If you came with us and we found you some place safe to stay at and then some help... would that be okay, Jack?"

Jack gulped and looked in their eyes, first JJ's, then Morgan's. He didn't seem to be afraid of the huge dark-skinned stranger, even though they both had reason to assume that he hadn't met anyone like them before -which was applicable for both, african american low-wage workers and homelesssingle-mom prostitutes.

"Who are you?", he finally whispered, "are you a friend of hers?"

"My name is Derek and, ehm... yes, I am. JJ and Henry are staying at my place."

"Are you married?"

"Hah, oh no kiddo, we're just plain friends; she's my buddy like you and the kids you're going to school with."

"Can I stay at your place, too?"

"You know... your folks are probably going to miss you and we should really find somebody related to you."

"Just please don't send me home..."

Morgan sighted and Jack's eyes widened, the fear of being rejected brightly shining out of them.

"No, don't worry... JJ said you didn't have to go home if you don't want to, right? We could..." He thought about the coins in his pocket and the rent which needed to be paid but after all his landlord was one of the nicer men. He could probably pay it next week or as soon as he had the money; these problems had occured before and it had always been fine... hard, but eventually alright. "You know what? You're probably hungry and I know a great place to grab some food at. So what about you take my jacket so you'll stay warm and then the three of us pick up JJ's son, go there, have something to eat and then we'll see what we can do. Just don't worry, everyhting's going to be alright... I promise."

As they walked down the street, Jack clinging to JJ's hand in an astonishing trustful manner, JJ and Morgan exchanged looks but failed to actually communicate. After a while JJ decided it was time to sort out matters; it was for her own good.

"I'll pay you. I always pay off my debts; I promise you that."

Morgan only shook his head. "Don't even think about it." He smiled and stretched out his hand, which she hesitatingly grabbed to shake it shortly. Her hand was tenuous and quivered as his big, coarse hand clasped hers. "Then, ehm... it's probably about time to introduce myself. Derek Morgan, nice meeting you."

"Jennifer Jareau; same here."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hello. hardly anybody is reading this, let alone writing reviews... but I write for fun rather than followers anyways and would like to give my thanks to everybody who has read, reviewed or added this story to favourites, alters or a similar function. This chapter is rather short, expecially if I take into consideration how long it took me to update, but I re-wrote parts of it and so this is just what I came up with._  
_

I hope you like it and would, as always, be incredibly happy if you told me what you're thinking about it.

Again, I don't knwo much about the time I'm writing about, so please forgive/ignore the improbabilities that might occur.

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_If we take the generally accepted definition of bravery as a quality which knows no fear, I have never seen a brave man. All men are frightened. The more intelligent they are, the more they are frightened_. - US Army Officer and WWII veteran George S. Patton

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Snow-white skin, cold but still soft to the touch of his own warm hand. It was a fascinating but not at all a "nice" way of softness though and mainly fat that he felt. How could a single man ever become _that_ heavy? The adolescent uncomprehendingly shook his head, silently vowing that he would never neglect his body as bad. There had been too many people like this - they had been too fat and too skinny, drunk or even stoned and while he himself would probably be considered lanky, had more important things to care about than his body and considered eating a task that could be neglected rather than the rest of his duties he wouldn't ever end like this. Never.

He took a deep breath to concentrate on his newest preoccupation while damp mopping the pale tilefloor.

Being a cleaner at the Coroner's office was a good job, he kept telling himself. Whenever he got to catch a look at one of the corpes or their files he learned something and while it certainly wasn't much that he was picking up and the little he learned he wouldn't ever get to use, it was at least something.

But he had always been a poor liar, even towards his subconciousness, and had learned to accept things the way they were - this job brought him as close to science as he would ever get. It wasn't much and he wouldn't be able to bear spending his life like this forever, but after all he couldn't ask for more. It was enough to live off and therefore alright.

"Hombre blanco, más de treinta años. El nombre de este hombre era John Copolla. Se murió de un ataque al corazón que sufrió en una edad tempranadebido a una dieta de altura en grasa."

He had begun to learn spanish about two weeks ago to keep himself obligated while completing his mindless tasks. His mother had been friends with a spanish family back then, when she still had been able to actually _have_ friends and one day he had decided to pay them a visit and ask for instructions. Not that he expected to ever see Spain, Mexico or any other foreign country. But as long as he didn't do this he was almost not doing anything at all and the restlessness of his mind was killing him. So spanish it was, even if he wouldn't ever get to have an interesting conversation with anybody than himself.

"Él no era inteligente. Vestía un traje negro. El negro es una sensación de color que se produce cuando un estímulo de color está ausente." The last sentence he had from the library. It was difficult to learn a language and not be able to say much in the beginning while at the same time there was just _so much_ that could be said.

He let out a deep sight. It had to be done. His vocabulary was increasing every day and he knew his basic grammar, so the boredom it was would very likely be worth it. "Seis veces cinco es igual a treinta." It felt like a waste of time though.

"Good morning Mr. Reid!"

He unwillingly jumped and turned around just to look straight into the big, potential-heart-attack-red face of his angry boss. The huge man looked like the spawn of human ugliness and was exactly that with both body and character. If there was somebody worse Reid hadn't ever heared of that person and would almost be curious to meet this certain somebody who was able to make the man who never ceased to dump on him look somehow nice, or at least not all that aweful.

"Good morning Dr. Marcus, Sir."

Reid seriously wondered why he never choked on the phony politeness which he, against all of its loathsomeness, displayed towards everyone in the office. The words felt like acid in his mouth but he wouldn't give that man a true reason to fire him. He just couldn't afford it.

"I see you seem to enjoy the company of Mr. Copolla?" It was a rethorical question, Reid knew that, but knew as well that Dr. Luc Anthonius Marcus always excpected some sort of an answer, no matter how stupid answering would be. He wouldn't get one, since Reid regarded answering to such a question as nothing but a waste of time, and therefore his boss would have all the more reason to mock, humiliate, stultify him and yes, Reid would take it, suck it up and uncomplainingly continue to scrub the remains of Dr. Marcus work.

"I heared you were so chatty just a minute ago; how come you're barely ever talking with me?"

Reid swallowed hard. _Hijo de puta!_ He bit his lip to not smile. "I was not talking to Mr. Copolla. I was merely thinking out loud. My apologies for the misunderstanding."

"Oh - _thinking_, that's what this was, yes?"

"Yes, Sir. I was just thinking."

"So what were you thinking about, Mr. Reid? It sure must have been something _astute_" -the tone of his voice could not have been any more condescending- "if you considered it important enough to share with your bystanders."

"No, Sir, it wasn't very important. I was repeating spanish words that I have been taught lately and didn't know you overheared me talking."

"And you found that your working period is a convenient time to study _spanish_."

"It does not affect my work, Sir."

"Oh really, it _does not?_" His voice was dripping with sarcasm and Reid felt the heat rise in his cheeks, "it _does not_?"

"No, Sir."

"Should you not concentrate on cleaning everything nicely? Because if I'm being honest... I _did_ notice some more stains around here lately and this wasn't the first time that I've seen you being distracted. So just skip the spanish and _do your fucking job or you'll find me kicking your stupid ass out of this house by the end of the week_. Did I make myself clear?"

_Si, ventosa_. "Yes, Sir. Crystal."

"Now, there's some cleaning up to do in 3B. Jameson spilled some of the stomach contents... I don't know why I'm still paying this positive fool if he can't ever get anything right." As Dr. Marcus turned around to leave, Reid guessed that the man was already making up new ways to cut Claus Jameson, his assistant, down to size. "Hurry up a little, the police is on its way and the husband is coming in tomorrow to identify the body and we _will_ not leave a bad impression just because I'm the indulgent fool hiring the city's biggest goddam idiots."

He didn't wait for Reid to answer this time and that he was glad for. So Reid grabbed his stuff to go over to 3B as he was about finished with the current room anyways. 3B, however, was a completely different thing. The smell of the mess Jameson had left was intense... but yet not as intense as the shocking eyesight of the woman that lay on the steel table in the middle of the room. Almost her entire body was covered with a large, white blanket but her arms lay above this privacy cover... Oh God, her arms. He shivered but couldn't resist approaching the table to take a closer look at these large, deep wounds that seemed to cover her entire wrists and forearms.

The look at her file made Reid startle though.

_Self inflicted wounds, multiple cuts through the Ulnar and Radial Artery in both wrists. Commited suicide_

Another look at her arms, then he began to wipe the floor as he always did. Dr. Marcus was a professional and the sole reason for why none of the staff had murdered him yet was that he was damn good at what he did. But neither was this the first time nor would this _not_ make a difference.

This was his life, his excistence, his pathetic attempt of finding fulfilment. Was it worth another one's rememberance?

* * *

**A/N:**

I do _not_ speak spanish! I know some basic french and both languages seem to be quiete similar, which is why I can read some spanish texts, but what I wrote here was done by google translate and a bunch of online dictionaries.

In case you're wondering what's being said - it's mainly about the corpse in the beginning being extremely obese, which lead to a heart attack, which indiactes that the man was too careless or too stupid to appropriately care about his diet. Everything else is insults.


	4. Chapter 4

__**A/N:** Thatks a lot for the two review I got! I appreachiate them very much so here's the next chapter. Again, it's rather short and I'm not too sure about it, but I'll be moving and starting University soon so I'm not sure when I'll have time (or Internet access) to update again so here's what I got so far.

As before, any feedback makes me happy so... yeah, please review?

* * *

_We shall defend our__island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fieldsand in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender._

- Winston Churchill

* * *

"Hey Em", Morgan greeted as he entered the Diner he loved but rarely ever went to. The food wasn't too fancy but always good and he had used to enjoy hanging with Emily a while ago. But even though nothing here was exactly pricy it was way out of his salary class though. Weirdly enough, Emily had shared with him that her pay wasn't high enough to eat there either. She just took the coffee and sometimes some of the leftover food they hadn't sold but never actually bought some.

Emily gave him a weird look, noticing JJ, Henry and Jack in is company. "Did I somehow miss out on you getting a family?"

"Aw, you always knew I'm a busy man."

She winked at the two pale kids and smiled widely, noticing how JJ blushed at Morgan's comment. The situation seemed to be, at least for her, quiete awkward and it just wasn't Emily's way to not at least try making her feel less uncomfortable. Giving Morgan a sarcastic look she scoffed, "And apparently you're about as _white_ as busy."

"I'm full of surprises, you ought to know by now."

"That I do not doubt." She filled two mugs with coffee and two glasses with orange juice. "But seriously... who are you guys?"

"I'm Jennifer", JJ introduced herself, "this is my son Henry and this, ehm... is Jack."

"They are staying with me for the next couple days", Morgan added.

"He told you his place is _tiny_, don't you? Back when i got to see him more often he kept complaining how he's too tall to really fit through the door and how he can't really breathe in there because the air gets fuggy after a few minutes and there's no window?" Emily was saying this in a joking voice but obviously with serious intentions. From what she had heard four people were at least four people too much for his room and while relatively healthy adults could probably handle the uncomfortable circumstances this wasn't an environments for children to sleep in. "But about one out of a hundred things he says can be pretty fun so I guess you'll have a good time", she scoffed and shoved the mugs and glasses towards them, "y'all looke a bit... worn out, if you don't mind, so you should really drink something."

"I can't pay for these", JJ quietly declined. Emily furrowed her brows, closely observing the small group for a moment, even though she had tried to not do it. JJ was pale and held one hand of either the two children tightly. She didn't wear much, despite the close-to-freezing-point temperatures outside, and shook lightly. The smaller boy was, well, _small_ and wore a thik coat while the older one seemed to wear a pyjama and a heavy, large jacket which Emily recognized was Morgan's. Morgan and JJ, however, stood in quite a distance from each other and were obviously somewhat awkward... and she knew he had just been joking about being in a relationship anyways, so she had simply assumed they were good friends, just like Emily herself was with him. She didn't know what to conclude from their rather odd appearance and decided to leave it; for now.

"Don't worry about that, they are on the house."

The blonde looked at Emily with distrust. It had been a while since someone had been as nice for no reason. "Why would you even do that? We've never met before."

"Oh, sure, that was kinda rude, wasn't it? I'm Emily, Derek and I are old friends and... well, I consider his friends as my friends, too."

"She's saving my life every once in a while."

"That's sweet of you to say but you're exaggerating."

"Then, thank you. That's too kind", JJ said and lifted Henry to sit him on one of the chairs at the counter while Jack took a seat by himself. Both boys grabbed a glass of juice and quickly began to drink and JJ let out a quiete sight as she took her first gulp of strong, hot coffee.

"So how did you meet?"

It seemed to be time to start some small talk. Their reaction wasn't quiete what Emily had expected though. Henry kept drinking, not following the conversation, but Jack seemed to become even paler than he had been before. Tears filled his eyes within an instant and a salty drop of grief broke the smooth surface of his beverage. JJ pulled him in a light, soothing hug until he had calmed down, worriedly looking towards Morgan at the same time. This again unsurely looked back at JJ. She hadn't been comfortable around him but she had told him she used to be good with people and he figured it was probably best if she did the talking... even though she didn't seem to agree.

"Well, we don't have to talk about that if that's... difficult", Emily quickly added, frantically trying to come up with a better topic, "how old are your children then? I always wanted one with my husband but Dave and I aren't really sure if that would be wise, concerning our living circumstances..."

As none of them got any less awkward Emily felt as if she was just making everything worse by putting her foot in something she didn't even know was there.

"Okay, then... the weather, maybe? It's become pretty cold during these last days and I'm just-" As her eyes fell on a shivering JJ, Emily felt like burrying her head in the sand and giving up to try to talk about _anything_ at all, sice she didn't seem to be capable of finding a topic of which they could talk that _didn't_ come across as too personal, too uncomfortable or too... well, whatever it was that made this whole situation so damn awkward. She wouldn't be able to safe the situation anyways. "JJ, aren't you freezing?"

"Emily", JJ -ignoring Emily's devastating attempts of having a casual conversation- began, "we have only met a few minutes ago but you and Morgan seem to be good friends."

"We are close", Emily confirmed and already began to suspect that there was something more to this conversation than the small range of topics that could, ergo, qualify as suitable small talk. It seemed to be one of those nights that don't seem to hold joy for anybody but only memories, regret and the darker side of the unknown.

"And he trusts you."

The awkward interrogation wasn't quiete what she had aimed for. "I, ehm... I guess so."

"And vice versa?", JJ pressed and bended over the counter a little bit, staring closer at Emily.

This Emily could answer without giving further thoughts to it. "With my life; yes."

"And you seem like a woman who can keep a cool head."

Emily sighted. "Look, if there's anything you want to ask me - feel free to do it. Seriously, how bad can it be? As long as you haven't murdered anyone I'm not about to freak out and ripp your heads off." She paused for a second before she quickly, maintaining the sarcastic undertone though, added "and I'm not gonna tangle with the mob, just so you know."

"Okay, then... now, that _is_ sort of a difficult situation-"

"Oh my fucking-! You didn't _really_ murder someone, did you?" She gave Morgan a confused look, hoping to find the confirmation that there, in fact, wasn't anything dubious they were involved in. he was calm, smiling a subtle smile that didn't tell her anything at all. Great, just... great.

"No, no of course not! And would you please mind the children?", JJ tried to shush Emily a moment later, "to tell you the truth - I met Morgan like an hour ago, on top. Henry is my son, Jack isn't. We met him around the same time and he crashed right into us then. His mother got hurt and she's probably dead... he is in shock, so he coudln't tell us much and we didn't want to bring him to his father."

"Have you _any idea_ in how much trouble you can get that way?"

"And what do _you_ think - that when the mother gets hurt you should leave a frightened kid with his father without knowing anything about him?"

"Then bring him to the police!", Emily exclaimed, "but don't take an underaged possible _homicide_ witness with you just like that! Morgan and... and you... Jennifer - are you out of your mind or what? Seriously, just _what is wrong _with the two of you? Do you wanna go to prison that badly?"

"Prison?", Henry suddenly squeaked and tears began to dwell his eyes. "Don't go to prison, mommy! Will I have to go to prison, too?"

"No, calm down honey, everything's gonna be okay", JJ quickly calmed her son and pulled him in a tight embrace, "none of us will go to prison; just don't worry. And _some of us_", she shot an angry glare towrads Emily, "will probably keep that in mind and _think_ about if first."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Henry, I didn't mean to scare you just... just give me a second." Emily took a deep breath and went around the counter to sit down. She burried her head in her hands and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process what this strange woman had just told her. It was too much to take in all at once. But after all they stayed with Morgan and Emily knew him well. He was upright and everything but stupid. He wouldn't take somebody in whom he could not trust, would he?

"Who are you?"

Jack's eyes were of a dark colour, with a splash of hazel in them. "Jack", he timidly answered and Emily sighted inwardly, confident to probably get his last name and somehow find a way to get things back into order before hell would break loose.

"I'm sorry your mother got hurt", she slowly continued, "but you're in good hands with Derek and Jennifer. But... just taking care of you without telling anybody else about it can be bad for them, too. Somebody might think you are with them even though you don't want to be with them. Do you understad that, Jack?"

Jack slowly nodded. "Is it like stealing and bowworing aren't the same?"

"Yes... yes, that's about right. But if you steal a child it's called kidapping and is _a lot_ worse and people could think that Jennifer and Morgan kidnapped you... which would be really bad, obviously, because they are good people."

"But I don't want to go back home. Mommy will be there."

"You don't have to. But we need to inform somebody, like the police, that you're safe and not kidnapped. And they won't make you go gome if this is dangerous place but they will find out all about your mother and who hurt her and take _very _good care of everything. So... I really need to know your last name and we can try to get things alright again."

"It's... it's Hotchner."

"Okay, then- _what_? You said _Hotchner?_"

Jack nodded.

"Your father... is your father _Aaron Hotchner?_"

Jack nodded and smiled, despite still looking awefully shattered. "That's him", he confirmed proudly, "how do you know my daddy?"

"We're... we're friends." Emily shook his head and glanced at Morgan with a conviction. "Aaron didn't do anything."

He gave her a worried look. "Emily, you can't know that, people fool each other; they betray their friends they-"

"My father's _not_ a liar!", Jack interrupted Morgan, angrily glancing at that rude man who dared to talk bad about his dad, "he's the _best_ and he's smart and he say people are not supposed to lie but to be honest and nice to each other so why would he tell lies to anybody then?"

"Look, kid... I understand that this is difficult but sometimes good people do really bad things and-"

"No, Derek, _leave him_", Emily said. Differently from Jack she had perfect controle of her voice and spoke calm, quiete and steady, "I'm telling you this as a reasonable thinking person. Aaron Hotchner is... well, he's not always as upright a man as I would like him to be but he's coming by for a coffee almost every evening. And yes, I know you're going to say how that's a rather brief friendship and yes, I know that I might know very little about him - but despite him being my friend he left only five minutes ago and since you know me well you _will_ and have to admit that I am a reliable alibi."

Morgan sighted and bent down a little until he looked Jack straight into the eyes.

"Jack, I need you to be absolutely honest, okay?"

Jack only nodded and took another slow, long sip of his OJ.

"Has your father ever hurt you or your mom?"

For a moment there was nothing but thick silence and as Emily thought of Hotch's alcoholic tendencies she cursed herself for doubting his nature for a second. But she hadn't known him to be agressive back then; he had been overworked and lost in his life... but not the kind of man that hurt others just because he was devestated.

"No", Jack eventually said; his voice being soft but free of doubt, "someone else... someone cut her, I think. There was a really big knife. And she screamed. And she fought and told me to hide so I did and then it was silent for a long time and I went into the bathroom to wake her up... but she didn't and I didn't think she slept anyways because when I wanted to sleep there I couldn't because mommy said it's not a good place to sleep and that I would catch a cold but I tried to wake her up though and when she didn't I ran because it was so scary and nobody else was there..."

"That was very brave of you, Henry."

Jack shrugged. He wasn't crying but looked far worse though. JJ made sure Henry sat on her lap safely before she let go of him for a while to take care of Jack.

"Did you see the one who did this?", Morgan gently asked.

Jack shook his head no. "It was a man because he yelled at first and his voice was scary but I never saw him. I hid."

"Do you know how he came into your home?"

"Y-yes... he rang the doorbell and I think mommy let him in."


End file.
